[a part of Sometimes You Lose People, Yediot Books Press, 2013]
Galya rises and immediately stands up and marches straight ahead, as if emerging from a dream into an urgent mission – to push the baby carriage from the corridor to the balcony, pulling it over the hurdle of the sliding-door track, to complete a circle around the kitchen with the Ride-on, to take four or five dolls at a time from her room to the living room couch, to sit them down and take them back with two small hands organizing, holding the group.
Today a rare thing happened and I managed to sleep for a considerable time at noon, a thick sleep that gets out of control and knows at a certain stage that it must be stopped but is unable to and sinks deeper and deeper into a dream and the dream deals with waking. And when A woke me up my tongue was sticking out slightly and I was worried that that was why he was laughing affectionately and I felt unease that the border had been crossed between the inside and the outside and the wet part came out a little, and this gap between the teeth, and even though he loves it felt like falling.
And I got up and immediately thought what should I do with this short afternoon which I worked so hard to attain and arrange the schedule and coordinate the times and immediately go for a walk sit down to write prepare to go out